Friday, October 04, 2019
The vase of my lunch table
All of this is going on at a level that is far, FAR over my head. So there is nothing I can do to rectify the situation. But I can worry. I'm good at worrying.
I still haven't paid for my September dental work. I need new windows. I'm looking at years of special assessments for this condo to pay for a new boiler and a new roof. My a/c got me through summer 2019 but I have no confidence it won't crap out before spring. My niece is getting married out of town next fall.
This is not a good time for me to find myself involuntarily retired. And I do suspect that's what will ultimately happen. I'm going to turn 62 next month -- I'm at a dangerous age in the advertising business.
Maybe it's time. I still often enjoy my job, but I also fantasize a lot about what my next chapter will be. I'd like to stay home and work on apartment. I'd like to do volunteer work, but I can't afford to do that exclusively. What kind of part-time work will I get?
It's the lack of control that is making me nuts. I want to know what's going on. I want to know what's on management's radar for me. I want to know how my world will look six months from now. I'm not good at not being in control. That's why I'm feeling all droopy and purple, like the flowers on my table at Soprafina today.